"Then?"
"We slept."
She smiled.
"Together."
"Yes."
"Beside the oven."
"Yes."
"Because the bed was too cold."
Gideon nodded.
Martha looked toward the oven.
"That was the first night I realized I felt safe with you."
Gideon didn't answer.
She looked at him.
"Didn't you hear me?"
"I did."
"Then say something."
He reached across the table.
His hand covered hers.
"I felt safe with you too."
Martha squeezed his fingers.
"Even though the roof was leaking?"
"Especially then."
She laughed softly.
"I thought we were going to die."
"So did I."
"You didn't act like it."
"I didn't want you to be afraid."
"You were terrified."
"Yes."
"Why didn't you tell me?"
"Because you were already afraid."
Martha's eyes softened.
"You've always done that."
"Done what?"
"Carried fear quietly so I wouldn't have to carry it."
Gideon looked down at their hands.
"You did the same."
She smiled.
"Maybe that's marriage."
He nodded.
"Maybe."
Outside, the wind rose.
The cabin walls creaked.
Martha looked toward the door.
"It sounds like that night."
Gideon turned his head.
"It does."
She smiled.
"Do you think we'll ever stop remembering?"
"No."
"Good."
He looked at her.
"Why?"
"Because I don't want to."
Neither did he.
The storm strengthened as night settled.
Snow accumulated along the windows.
The horses had already been fed.
The woodpile was covered.
The doors were secured.
Everything they needed was inside.
Martha cleared the plates.
Gideon carried the heavy pan to the wash basin.
"You don't have to."
"I know."
"You always say that."
"Because you always tell me I don't have to."
She smiled.
They worked side by side.
The same way they had for years.
When the dishes were done, Gideon poured two small glasses of whiskey.
Martha accepted hers.
They sat beside the oven.
The fire cast moving shadows across the walls.
Gideon leaned back against the timber.
Martha tucked her legs beneath her skirt.
For a while they listened to the storm.
Then she said, "Do you ever wonder what our lives would have been like if we hadn't met?"
Gideon looked at her.
"Never."
"You don't?"
"No."
"Not even once?"
"No."
"Why?"
"Because there's no life I want to imagine where you're not in it."
Martha looked down.
Her eyes suddenly felt warm.
"That's a dangerous thing to say."
"Why?"
"Because I'll remember it."
"Good."
She smiled.
"You've gotten better at talking."
"I've had practice."
"With me?"